


What's in a name?

by Random2002



Category: The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue Series - Mackenzi Lee
Genre: A Character study on names if you will, But also some during Ladies Guide, But only a bit, Felicity is only there in mention sorry, M/M, Monty Newton, Period-Typical Racism, Post-The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:26:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26155705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Random2002/pseuds/Random2002
Summary: Five times Monty used Monty Newton as his name and One time Percy did.
Relationships: Felicity Montague & Henry "Monty" Montague, Henry "Monty" Montague & Percy Newton, Henry "Monty" Montague/Percy Newton
Comments: 4
Kudos: 59





	What's in a name?

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here is a little thing I wrote inspired by a conversation on the Gentleman's Guide Discord. Thank you for inspiring me for the first time in a couple months!

ONE  
Monty knew this was a bit daft, perhaps moving a little fast as his and Percy's relationship had only truly been set in motion for a rather short amount of time. But the feelings he held for his best friend has taken up residence in Monty's heart for much longer than that and he would be a liar if he said he hadn't thought about this before. Several times actually. Oftentimes in moments of vulnerability where the curse of the family name felt heavy and entrapping on his very soul. In those clandestine moments, Monty wondered what his life would have looked like if he was born anyone else but himself. Of course, sometimes these fantasies took a very specific sort of shape, the shape of notes floating on the morning breeze as Percy showed off a new piece he had learnt. These fantasies, that took place entirely in Percy's eyes, amongst the freckles on his dark skin, hidden in his smiles reserved only for Monty. Exasperated but endlessly fond. He did not think it would be this difficult  
-man!" a voice broke him out of his musings.  
"Pardon?" he barely choked out, still in a light state of shock at being forcefully pulled back into reality  
"I asked for your name young man, you don't look like a local" Thank the heavens that someone in Santorini spoke English, as Monty's language lessons were always nothing short of a disaster, but right now the lovely elderly lady in front of him could have been speaking Greek as to not put the man on the spot. 

What is in a name anyway? So many fairytales highlight the importance of names and the carelessness of giving them away on a whim. Montague is a last name known in many stories, held by many men before Monty and quite possibly, will be wielded by many after him. So why is it so important for him to keep it? At the end of the day it is a word like any other is it not? Would having a different name affect his identity so greatly? Is the very essence of Monty, besides his beloved nickname, tied permanently to that last name? Well, this was the ideal place to find out. Miles away from home, in the middle of a market filled with foreigners who haven't a single clue who a Montague was and what they looked like so-  
"Newton. Monty Newton ma'am" he smiled his most charming smile.  
"Well then Mr. Newton, you're certainly a thinker no?" she asked, handing him the bag of fruit he picked out. Percy was on bed rest and Monty figured some exotic Greek fruit would cheer him up, after all. He was a capable adult now, he had to be.  
"Ma'am no one in my entire life had ever called me a thinker" a truth, thinking was not a very common occurrence with Monty as he was reminded by so many people in his life.  
"Ah, well Greece is the very cradle of thinkers, perhaps the land had influenced you." Perhaps. 

After thanking the woman and beginning the walk home Monty realised that he didn't feel any different, abandoning his last name on foreign shores. Though there was a certain warmth in his heart that he couldn't exactly explain. 

TWO  
London was, well there weren't many words that could accurately explain the filth that clung to the city. It was certainly vile, that is for sure. However, Monty was pretty happy to be back on British soil. London was only a place he visited on business, never pleasure. Certainly far from Cheshire so the journey to the capital was a rare occurrence. Despite the dirt and the poverty, London had a certain charm to it, especially now that Monty counted towards the poverty, and the dirt on a bad day. The first step to true independence was to find a place of employment for himself as the world happens to be ran by currency. Not everything can be handled on pure intoxicating love alone. There was a certain thing wrong with the aspiration. Well, one thing that branched off into a million little problems. First of all, Monty was used to being a Lord and having not done a day of manual labor in his life his skillset was rather refined and certainly lacking. He was only good at a couple of things such as looking pretty which was hard to do with the troublesome scarring down the side of his face thanks to the Duke of Bourbons pistol. Those scars have sent a couple of orphaned boys running at the sight of him and while Monty was certainly not fond of children he also didn't want to strike fear into their little hearts. Secondly, this scarring had led of a disability which left Monty's work offers to be extremely limited. He couldn't make a beautiful barmaid when he wasn't a maid, couldn't hear in one ear and was now no longer beautiful, according to only himself.. Another self diagnosed issue was that Monty was unfortunately only really good at getting drunk and messing things up when he was really keen on something. Now that he was attempting to remain sober, that only left messing things up for other people. This feeling of hopelessness is what brought him to the poker table. Well, if he couldn't get drunk he could at least pretend he was and before he knew it he was being approached by a very impressive, intimidating man. Oh Zounds, this is very bad.  
"You did a good job out there kid, think you can do that regularly?" So this man was not here to deliver a beating and cast him out for swindling his regular customers?  
"I suppose I can, under appropriate conditions" That came out pretty charming right? Monty tried to force his best smile forward, ignoring how his scarring made his dimples all uneven now.  
"Good" The man smiled too, buying Monty's false confidence and sat down "Lets discuss some details" 

So turns out, there were people who wanted to employ him. The job was bordering the honest and moral boundaries but Monty was not going to turn down an opportunity. He'd have an actual wage and conditions and protection in case his patrons, or better described as victims go rowdy or aggressive. The conditions were actually very fair, especially seeing as Monty didn't feel like he had much more to offer.  
"Lets, strike the deal then kid, what is your name?"  
Ah. The hundred pound question then. Who is he really? He cannot say Montague. The name is known in London and in no time will it be discovered that Henri Montague's disappointment of a son was actually hiding out in London. Its a miracle he hadn't been recognised yet anyway, but using his name was too risky so then maybe...  
"Monty Newton, at your service!" 

THREE  
Turns out, doubtful in the morality of it or not, Monty was very good at his job. The owner, Matthew as it turns out, was rather pleased with him which meant that Monty had extra leeway on things such as off days for when Percy had one of his seizures and needed someone to stay home with him. It was funny how quickly the tiny little apartment they had managed to snag became 'home' for Monty. The word set his blood alight every time, though there wasn't much going on in the four walls, it had the instinctive warmth that only Percy could ignite around himself. Monty thought that perhaps his best friend, and lover; always very exciting to remember, would be disappointed that the work he had found was not quite as honest as a baker or a fisherman. However, Percy was delighted that Monty had managed to arrange something all by himself and that he was doing well enough to earn praise. Monty could not recall anyone supporting and lifting him up the way Percy did and maybe that is why he felt so determined to keep his job? 

"Now that is a royal flush gentlemen" He could hardly contain his satisfied smirk when the faces on the men he was currently playing with dropped in surprise. Who would have suspected a sad drunk young man to have such good fortune in cards on this fine evening no? One of the older men turned a sickly shade of puce and Monty instantly knew he was in trouble, men like that nearly always got aggressive. Out of habit, Monty surveyed the man searching for any weapons but his eyes landed on the man's cane. The coat of arms on the handle was pretty familiar, belonging to another family quite close with the Montague's. Well, interesting, it was a wonder what old Henri would say to his friends losing money to his son in a game of poker. But that life was far behind him now and if he could escape this rather sticky situation whole, all he could think of is the look on Percy's face when he comes home with his favourite pastry from the bakery along the road from their apartment. If he manages to play another game tonight then perhaps they could put some money towards a warmer coat for Percy. Look at him, all mature and budgeting and yes the man is very angry now. Monty makes sure to wave at Thomas on the bar, asking for a bit of aid but it is slightly too late before he feels the collar on his jacket be grabbed at  
"Who are you, you little scoundrel!" the man bellows and Monty is entirely in flight mode. He needs to get away and the help is making its way over too slowly.  
This is a battle too difficult to win so he just closes his eyes and-  
And then he's being let go and the man is being pulled away and Matthew is there and everything is quite okay.  
"Is this man bothering you Newton?" he asks and the name brings back the warmth he lost during the overtaking of paralysing fear. He takes a moment to breathe because Percy says that is something he should do when everything feels like its melting away and carefully nods.  
"You should go home lad" and then he nods again because he doesn't trust his tongue to work properly and allow him to speak. He steps outside and the cool brick of the wall helps him come back to reality and the grimy cobblestone feels familiar under his shoes.  
"Newton" he whispers to himself "Monty Newton." Slowly he feels himself again. 

FOUR  
"Excuse me sir, may I ask you-" getting stopped on the street was always a stressful situation. When your are trying to live a new life, it is often most that the anxiety of becoming discovered leads to making quite a fool of yourself. Monty should know, he had made a fool of himself many a time. However, with the passage of time he had become accustomed to being stopped by foreigners asking for directions, or the current time or even young children, curious about his scars. It had been a while and the scars had begun to heal quite nicely, that and large amounts of encouragement from Percy made Monty feel more comfortable with them. In fact he had slowly started to forget how he even looked without them. Returning to the topic, getting stopped on the street had become a pretty routine thing to Monty so he turned to face the voice.  
"Yes?" He answered because anything too flowery indicates an overly enthusiastic desire to help a stranger and anything with less energy often welcomes sour moods and stress inducing tantrums from people unaccustomed to being ignored.  
"Pardon my interruption, you just look strangely familiar." This is the line that plagued Monty's nightmares. At once he realised that indeed the lady in front him did in fact look familiar to him also and he had seen her on multiple occasions at social functions. In the past, in another life. But he recognised her, the daughter of an Earl. It seems as though she recognised him too. He could either confess or pretend not to know what was going on so-  
"I get that often, sorry I don't really know you" pretending it is, he could do this. He spent most of his life pretending.  
"You look like Henry Montague" she stated and Monty felt his blood run cold. It had in fact been a long while since he had been called by his birth name. Well, he had committed to pretending after all  
"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm Monty Newton, I Don't know a Henry Montague, excuse me madam but I am late for work" and then he ran away, a quick step into the London crowd before the countess can stop him.  
'I don't know a Henry Montague' he had said and in a way that was true. He had grown so much since that scared man in the mansion. A strange part of him sang at the idea that the name 'Monty Newton' had now been spoken into existence and into the crowd of nobility that orbited around his old life. But that is a problem for another time and though Monty had become better at many things he was still amazing at procrastinating. 

FIVE  
So, Felicity had gone off and ran away to Europe and Monty worried himself positively sickly. His sister might be smart and capable like no other but that did not change the fact that she was his younger sister. Sure they fought and argued for most of their childhood but when it really counts, Monty wants to be there for her. Damnation, being better is awful sometimes because you develop feelings like a particular painful venereal disease. Firm on staying and almost impossible to get rid of. He admired her determination, he really did but was it necessary to achieve at the cost of him passing away prematurely from a heart malfunction? At least he would leave behind a particularly handsome corpse. Of course, after multiple talks with the landlord and the employer both Monty and Percy rushed after her. It would not do to just let her out into the world entirely alone. After multiple days of travel they finally managed to make it to Germany. The were only a day out from where Felicity was headed thankfully, but it was now dark and best to turn in for the night. Luckily, they had some money saved for an inn and soon enough found a place to stay in when it happened.  
"We would like to request a room please" Monty smiled as widely as he could without his skin pulling painfully, hoping to charm the inn keeper. The woman eyed Percy in a way that made Monty's entire self boil and froth but he was not keen on sleeping outside. Percy was still recovering from a particularly bad fit he had a couple days back and the journey was taxing on him so a bed could do him a lot of good also.  
"We only have one" her voice was flat  
"That's okay, we can share" he smiled again, placing the payment for the room down on the counter. She surveyed the money for a while before meeting his eyes. Monty looked away,  
"What name."  
"Pardon?"  
"Under what name should I mark the room down?"  
"Newton. Monty Newton" Percy stiffened a little behind him and it hit Monty that despite having used the name for himself for a while now, this was the first time that Percy had heard him say it. Of course he knew that Monty avoided going by his surname at his place of employment but Monty never filled him in on what name he did go by. The woman nodded and wrote it down though internally Monty was going through every scenario. Was Percy upset with him? Was this too fast? Or too forward? Was it entirely  
inappropriate of Monty to use Percy's family name? Did he break a social rule he never remembered having drilled into him? 

+ONE  
"Monty Newton, huh?" They had made their way up to their room and Monty was well and truly underway to devising a plan that involved him jumping out of the window if only to avoid Percy's anger. His lover's voice however did not sound angry. So perhaps he was not upset with the development of the situation?  
"That was really inappropriate of me to do I know I-" apologising was a thing that Monty had gotten down by now. It was another skill he was getting progressively better at even though he sort of hated doing it.  
"What? Don't be silly" Oh Percy, a saint in human skin, always so understanding despite Monty's numerous mistakes  
"I just didn't think about it this time" he starts  
"Wait, this time? So this isn't the first time?" He is really digging himself a hole here wasn't he?  
"Well I... thought that Montague is a little too well known so I may or may not have used your last name at my workplace?" Monty says sheepishly and he's too worried to look up and face Percy but-  
Laughter.  
Percy isn't angry, he's laughing at him  
"Why- Why are you laughing? Shouldn't you be angry with me?"  
"Angry? Why should I be angry?"  
"For...for using your name"  
"Personally I think it's very cute Monty Newton" Uh oh, there it is. Hearing the name roll off of Percy's tongue like that makes Monty go very, very red. Percy smirks, honest to God. Scrap Saint Percy this man is the devil incarnate. "You're red as a tomato, fantasised about this have we?" scrap best friends too, you tell a man about your innermost fantasies once and he thinks he knows you. Which, of course he does. He's Percy, no one knows Monty better. "Well I, for one don't mind you using my name" he continues.  
"You don't?"  
"Course not, its actually rather romantic"  
"Well, I am the king of romance am I not?" That sends Percy laughing again, oh the betrayal.  
"We have to find our sister in the morning and its getting late. Come to bed Mr. Newton"  
Monty had never moved faster in his life.


End file.
